


Five Times Scourge Wanted to Feel Something, and One Time He Did

by JLSigman



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:40:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21594721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JLSigman/pseuds/JLSigman
Summary: A series of stories about Lord Scourge and his Jedi, Jennäfer
Relationships: Female Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython/Lord Scourge
Comments: 15
Kudos: 39





	1. Hope

Lord Scourge had received no orders about Darth Angral, so he did not pay any attention to the private vendetta. He had other targets and duties, and attended to them. Until Uphrades burned and a million died so the bloated spider could gorge again. The dark satisfaction that brushed Scourge's mind soon after reminded him that this could not go on forever. He knew there was an end.

That he would see the beginning of the end on Quesh, while hunting a rogue Sith lord, would have been surprising if he could still feel such extreme emotions. She boldly stared at him through the force field, grey eyes clear and unafraid. He memorized her face, her Force presence, and turned to go. He had preparations to make.

He faced her again in front of the Emperor's current body. He had orders to simply delay, not defeat, and he memorized her form, the speed and fluidity of her dual-wielding, how her long brown braid swung a perfect counterweight to her movements. He carefully picked her up once she finally fell to the Emperor's power and carried her to the medical bay. 

An agent from Imperial Intelligence waited outside for him. Silently, he was handed a padd. Scourge nodded once and began reading. He had no interest in Warren Sedoru's past battles, or Leeha Narezz's silly theories, or Tol Braga's empty accomplishments. But his Jedi had a name, a past, a place in the galaxy. She was Jennäfer, from Alderaan, spirited out of the Panteer compound after she was seven years old. There was no mention of parents, merely a note that she had been with her caretakers when the Force manifested. A personal entry she wrote about her early memories and the old woman she had been trained to bow to. A holo from when she and her fellows graduated out of the younglings creche. 

Scourge walked into the medical bay and stopped in front of her tank. Her hair had been loosened and floated around her. For a moment, her eyes opened and focused on him. If he could feel, he decided, this would be hope. Her eyes closed, and he moved on.


	2. Relief

"I will not be a trophy."

The dark temple echoed with the Emperor's words. Scourge knew he should be furious with his Jedi for being so soft hearted. "We have to leave, now!" he called. There was a vibration in his chair that had little to do with the sublight engines he was hurrying through a pre-flight check. Doc was cursing behind him somewhere as a kolto vial fell over. 

Kira helped a limping Rusk up the ramp. "Where is she?" she shouted. 

"Getting us all killed," Scourge muttered, scanning the temple entrance. For all his words earlier, he was suddenly unwilling to leave his Jedi behind. He had done that before, ages ago, and had lived long enough to regret the necessity of it. 

"There!" Kira's arm shot into his side vision. 

She was running, surrounded by the Force, using it to pull the T7 droid along at a speed it could never manage over the terrain on its own. She looked back to the crumble building once, then lept for the ramp. 

He took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing. This was relief, he decided, that she was alive to be scolded later.


	3. Regret

Jennäfer reached out her hand to the final key. She could feel the Force coalescing behind her, but it was Scourge's sudden breath that made her turn around. 

"Good. You have opened the way."

"Revan?" She slowly lowered her hand. "But..." She looked up to Scourge, who looked more uncomfortable than she had ever seen him, even when wounded in battle. "I don't understand," she finally murmured.

"Through the Force, all things are possible."

Scourge watched his Jedi's eyebrows knit in a frown. "I don't need platitudes, Revan, I need answers." He was proud of her for that. 

Apparently, so was his former comrade, a grin quickly flashing across his face. "When the Emperor's followers struck me down, I was able to release my attachments."

The frown had not left Jennäfer's face. "Then who, or what, is wearing your mask and leading your followers?"

The ghost faltered. "I... do not know."

Scourge shook his head. "He feels like you, old friend. They might fool someone who had never met you, but not I."

The ghost was looking the woman in the eyes. "Whoever he is, he must be stopped. His fury will only strengthen the Emperor, not destroy him." She nodded.

Then Scourge was being examined. He did not know how to feel regret anymore, but he wanted to, in this moment, so that old wounds could heal. "She is the one you saw that day?" Scourge nodded. "She is capable of so much. She will accomplish more than I ever could have. Protect her."

Scourge looked at his Jedi, physically small but oh, what a presence in the Force. She was smiling at him. "She barely needs me anymore, but I promised to see this through to the end."

Revan nodded, raising his hand in an old gesture of blessing. Then he turned and vanished. Scourge felt a weight he hadn't realized he was carrying lift. Perhaps he could hope, after all.


	4. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ziost chapter

A cold feeling, like the Force was freezing the very air, coalesced in the holo terminal. Jennäfer got even paler. A voice Scourge knew all too well echoed around them. "I'm curious: Do you really believe you've accomplished anything here? What do you think you've stopped?"

Her shoulders slumped. He had never seen her look so defeated. "Very little, I know. But if I do nothing, what good am I?" She was staring at her hands.

"What good, indeed... I have been pondering this myself, and have finally come up with an answer."

Scourge tensed. Something was about to happen. The Force was being pulled away, somehow, subtly. He looked down at his Jedi but she hadn't moved.

"I have decided that life is more interesting with you in it. If you wish to keep railing against me, then so be it. Your interference changes nothing."

She flinched as Vitiate continued. "When I am finished here - when every life on this planet has been exhausted - I want you to be alive. To know that I succeeded.

"Goodbye..."

The presence dissipated but the cold remained. Jennäfer shuddered and hugged herself. Then she tilted her head slightly, as if she was trying to hear something in the distance. Scourge tried to unclench his mind, but his instincts were screaming at him to leave. "We have to go, Jedi." His mouth was dry, his throat was parched; this was not natural.

Her eyes snapped back into focus, horror dawning. She nodded and fumbled with the hood on her borrowed robes. They hurried to the doors and as the power cycled to open, his hand felt natural at the small of her back, encouraging her to stand straighter. She was barely 165cm tall, but she needed to look the part of a Sith apprentice for a few hours longer. They just needed to get off the planet alive.

New Adasta was almost quiet, which was wrong in it's own way. While it had been a decade or more since Scourge had been to this part of Ziost, it was a city in an obsidian cavern. The echoes of the evacuation shuttles should have been nearly deafening. Instead everything felt, sounded, looked muted. It was like running through a nightmare.

There were Imperial troop ships lining the road ahead. At least that was still working, Scourge thought as he strode up to a large human male barking orders. "Mi'lord," the man snapped a quick salute, his Ziost accent thick.

"How much longer until launch, lieutenant?" Scourge asked as he waved Jennäfer into the carrier.

"Just doing a final sweep for survivors - hold on," the man answered his ear piece. "Shit. Just what we needed, more Pubs."

Scourge wanted nothing more than to grab the controls and fly away. He could feel his Jedi's grip on her emotions both tightening and wavering at the same time. "Bring them."

The first lieutenant's eyebrows shot up. "Mi'lord?"

"Every life left on this planet will be used to strengthen the former Emperor. Every life denied him leaves him that much weaker. Bring them." He strode into the carrier, standing next to his "apprentice", knowing he would be obeyed.

She looked up at him quickly. She was too pale, eyes too wide. "Thank you," she mouthed, then turned away again.

The trooper carrier rocked slightly as the final borders climbed in. While Scourge was no expert at Republic Army symbols, he was glad not to recognize the insignia of the three Republic troopers who huddled miserably near the back exit. The last thing he needed was Havoc Squad's pair of Cathar soldiers causing trouble. The first lieutenant ignored them as he rapped on the pilot's chair with his knuckles. "Get us out of here, Marly."

"Yes sir," the pilot responded, flipping a switch above themselves. A moment later they pulled back on the controls and the carrier rose into the air.

When they exited the cavern a few moments later the pilot flipped another switch. The ship shivered as the shielding came down to protect the passengers from vacuum. "Ziost space command, this is Imperial troop carrier ZJ4-EL, requesting flight plan."

The radio crackled. "Troop carrier ZJ4-EL, this is _Kallig's Legacy_ , in orbit above Ziost. How many present on your ship?"

Scourge froze, then forced himself to relax. He had not expected Darth Imperius or her forces to be here. The pilot looked to the first lieutenant beside them. " _Kallig's Legacy_ , this is first lieutenant Pierce. We've got 5 civilians, 7 Imperial troops, 2 Sith, and 3 Republic troops."

"Acknowledged." There was only a short pause before the radio sounded again. "Imperial troop carrier ZJ4-EL, please dock at the Ziost Analysis Services Center, passengers will be routed appropriately from there."

"Acknowledged," the pilot said as they punched the coordinates into the navigation computer. "ETA is 2 hours, give or take, sir." Pierce nodded and glanced behind him. Something about the big Sith seemed familiar, and he damn sure wasn't going to trust the Pubs until they got out of Imperial space. And then he would have to try to explain to the Wrath what happened here. He let out an irritated sigh and pulled out his pad to start typing.

It was a tense flight. One of the civilians was wounded, and another would periodically clutch his head and weep. The Republic troopers kept their hands in sight and their eyes on the floor. One of the Imperial troopers kept trying to catch Jennäfer's attention, rather unsubtly, until Scourge bared his teeth. Then the man spent several minutes muttering until one of the officers snapped at him. The trooper carrier flew near the Legacy, it's Silencer aimed at the Republic capital ship, and no-one seemed to breathe until they were past it and their destination came into sight. 

The docking process went without incident, and as soon as the doors opened the Republican troopers scrambled out. The Imperials didn't seem interested in following them and focused on helping the civilians towards medical treatment. Scourge was caught off guard when Jennäfer suddenly leapt several feet past the opening and took off running towards the large plastisteel windows. 

"Jed - Jen - " he cut himself off before he bellowed her name where it might be recognized and tried to remember to look like he might be upset with his apprentice. As he strode after her, the pressure of the Force in his ears and mind increased. Around him other Sith and Jedi were obviously affected, stumbling into his path and slowing him down. When he realized that the mental echoing scream was being echoed by humanoid throats, causing a panic, he threw caution to the wind and used his bulk and the Force to push everything out of his way. 

Ziost hung in space, a familiar sight with an unfamiliar hellish glow springing up near one of the poles. The Force keened in misery, and Jennäfer fell to her knees with a sympathetic cry, and Scourge caught her and wrapped his arms around her and watched Ziost die.

She was curled into his chest, sobbing, whispering, "I'm sorry!" over and over. He wished with all that he was that he could love her. She deserved nothing less.


	5. Mourning

Scourge had lived long without his Jedi. Three hundred years he had waited for her. Three years he fought by her side. It shouldn't have been enough to make any impression on him. But somehow, she had become everything he ever needed. And he didn't know how to mourn her.

His dreams were often memories, except sometimes he remembered how to feel.

His mind had him in the hallways of the Jedi temple on Tython. In this dream he was alone (when it happened, Satele Shan was beside him, a disapproving shadow making sure he did not veer from his course to corrupt any more of her charges), and the hallway was much smaller as it lead outside. In the early morning light stood his Jedi, standing in front of a green clad figure who looked nearly as old as he was (she had been a Miraluka in pale green, Master Savah, leading the gathered in gently strenuous morning exercises), surrounded by hooded and faceless others (older Padawans, mostly; a few Masters trying to impress the Battlemaster). His Jedi shone, her hair unbound and glowing, simply dressed in a tunic and leggings and bare feet (she had needed healing and rest after Ziost, and he had not seen her in weeks). She turned towards him and smiled and he could almost remember how to feel -

And now he was seeing her through the holocom in his hand, surrounded by fire and impending death. She was gently, sadly smiling at the camera T7 had hacked (they were desperate to find another usable dock) as she told them to leave, to warn everyone (she had stressed everyone, of course she had) that Vitiate was out here and he had a terrible army (Kira was weeping, T7 couldn't find anything that wouldn't open to vacuum or fire). 

"Do not do this, Jedi," he had said (he couldn't say her name, even in dreams). 

"I'll be fine." She was calming him? He couldn't be anything but calm. "You still owe me a crown, remember?"

The image wavered, T7's soft electronic wail muted by the hyperdrive engaging. He turned away from the star smeared viewscreen -

He was on the ground somewhere. It was cold. The stars were holes punched in a dark durasteel plate. He didn't recognize any part of what little he could see. He couldn't move. 

"A doubting Jedi..."

He knew that voice. Too well. He couldn't breathe.

"The broken healer..."

He was so cold. How could he feel this? His sight was dimming. 

"And the unrepentant traitor..."

She laughed.

He could breathe. He could see her, in the distance. There was a terrible shadow beside her, black eyed death courting her still. 

She was laughing. "You're still mad you didn't realize he'd been against you for 300 years!" He was so proud of her, for an instant he could feel that -

She was gasping in pain, and the black eyed shadow loomed over her. He felt himself fading, being yanked away. 

"JENNÄFER!"

He woke, gasping. He sat up in his bunk, the small ship he and Kira had stolen silent around him. Nothing had changed. He held his head in his hands and wished he could weep.


End file.
